The Other Ever After
by Delphina2
Summary: Charlotte, Daniel, Ilana, Jacob, MIB, Eloise, Richard, Isabella, and the Others  AND BEN  deserve a sideways world resolution!  This story takes place in the universe of my others: Wheel of Fortune and Lost Love and therefore Layna has a part.
1. Ilana's Riddles

**Author's Note: This is the sideways/afterlife from the POV of the characters I wrote for in my other two fictions: Lost Love and Wheel of Fortune. Those longer stories will enhance the understanding of this one, but aren't completely necessary to enjoy it.  
**

**Also, after watching The End again, I saw a few things that made me want to change this story. **

**So, if you already read this, the first two chapters are different. **

** Warning, the beginning is a mystery, but the final chapters get SUPER mushy and emotional, just like the show did in The End. :D **

...

Once again, Ilana had taken the afternoon off from the office to come to the museum. This gallery seemed to call her, as if the relics her mother had donated were trying to tell her something.

Besides being a renown artist, her father had become fascinated with deep sea exploration seven years ago and when one of his diving teams claimed they had found an island with ancient Egyptian pieces, it was like he'd been born again. He'd stopped painting and teaching to dedicate all his time and money bringing up as much as they could.

Her mother had a few smaller pieces mounted for show in their home, but the largest pieces were kept here for the public to enjoy. As Ilana walked around the room, looking over the stone walls that had been excavated she again felt as if she should understand the meanings of the hieroglyphics, even though she'd never studied.

She could still remember the day her father had called her to tell her he'd finally seen with his own eyes, the pieces of an ancient loom and the tapestry that was hanging on a wall near it. It made no sense that neither had decayed in the sea water for as old as it should have been and he was crying on his phone, saying he knew why.

He'd wanted to tell her in person, but he never came home. That was the last day any of them had heard from him four years ago. Nobody knew what had happened. Since after they lost communications the boat never docked back in California, and nobody on it was ever found, most people assumed it had capsized in a storm. But turning all their resources into finding the homing beacon, nothing ever turned up. Ilana and her mother held out frail hope that they were stranded somewhere or in some of her wilder imaginings, pirates were holding him and any day she'd get a ransom note sent to her law office. But nothing had come yet.

Seeing her clients reunited this week, almost miraculously, her faith was restored; anything was possible.

When her cell phone rang loudly, echoing in the quiet museum, Ilana went for it quickly. It was her mother.

"Hi, sweetheart," she said. "Can you come over for dinner tonight? Richard and Isabella are in town for a benefit tonight and they'd love to see you."

"Yeah, sure," she said. "I'll be there in an hour?"

"Perfect! I called your office number first and they said you weren't in. Where are you?" she asked. Ilana hesitated and her mother guessed. "That's what I thought. Why do you do this to yourself?"

"I can't help it..." she said. "I miss him." She glanced up at the tapestry hanging there and suddenly the translation of the Greek she had been told made sense to her; as if she wasn't just remembering it's meaning, but she could read it. "_May the gods grant you the desire of your heart._" She looked away from it and over at the stone wall in the center and said to her mother, "It's like he's speaking to me through these things he found, mom. Like he wants me to find him... and these are clues."

"Have you been sleeping well, Ilana? You don't sound like you're thinking straight."

"I'm fine," she said.

With her attention back on the stone wall, Ilana saw an image on a brick and felt an urge to touch it. When she lifted her hand, she heard someone behind her clear his throat. It was a security guard.

"You can't touch the relics, ma'am," he said.

"Just a second, mom," Ilana said and held her phone away from her. "It's okay," she said to the security guard. "This is my family's room. We donated these things."

The man walked over to her with a smirk. "You're Ilana?" he asked. "The daughter of Jacob, the great artist and explorer?"

"Yes," she said with a slight chuckle. His face broke into a smile.

"I'm Bram," he said and stuck out his hand. "Huge fan of your father."

Ilana held up her finger to hold him off, going back to her phone. "I've got to go, mom, give my love to Isabella and Ricardus, I'll be home soon."

"Ricardus?" her mom said. "You mean Richard?"

"Yeah," she said, feeling odd. She hung up and the man had his hands on his hips now.

"What were you going to do?" he asked gesturing to the wall.

"Press it," she said. She turned to the stone and said, "That hieroglyphic, it means life... eternal life. This was some sort of... secret passage way to eternal life."

"You study Egyptian work like your father?"

"No, that's the odd thing, I haven't... I just know, somehow."

"Well, go ahead, then. Let's see what happens."

"Really?' she said, with a grin. She pushed up her sleeve and put her hand on the circle. Pushing it she felt it move and they exchanged glances. She continued until the large brick fell to the ground behind the wall with a huge smashing thud that echoed through out the museum. As it did, into her mind came a flash of a bright explosion and she stood, as if in the middle of it, petrified.

"Oh shit," Bram said, moving around to the other side of the wall. "It's broke... I am _so_ fired."

"What the hell was that?" came an accented female voice.

An other of a deep throaty voice answered, "Came from in there."

When the red headed Museum working came in she was followed by a janitor who looked at them an expression of dark curiosity.

"Bram, what happened?" the woman demanded. She looked at Ilana and said, "Did you touch it? Did you do this?"

"I'm Ilana," she said. "Jacob is my father."

"I don't care who the hell you are, this was an ancient relic and look what you've done."

"He told her to do it," the janitor said. The red headed woman turned to look at the janitor and seemed slightly unnerved as he went on. "I heard him say, 'let's see what happens'... been keeping my eye on that one." He pointed at Ilana and said, "She's here twice a week, sometimes three... almost like she's casing the place."

The woman turned back on them and Bram said, "I'm sorry, Miss Lewis... I should have known better."

"Yes, you should have. Give me your jacket and your museum shirt. You're fired."

Bram didn't even protest and Ilana said, "This was my fault... my family will pay for any expenses. Don't fire him."

"You don't understand," Charlotte said, taking Bram's jacket. "That piece was irreplaceable." It sounded almost to Ilana as if she was taking it personally. When Bram removed his button down shirt, he had a printed tee on underneath and Ilana felt horrible for his indignation.

She glanced at the janitor and he smirked and then moved away into the other room pushing his broom. There was something familiar about him, but the way he looked at her made her very uncomfortable.

"You know," Bram said quietly as he handed over his museum shirt and the radio from his belt. "That janitor gives everyone the creeps, even the guards."

"I know," Charlotte said, shifting her eyes. "He's becoming a personal problem for me too."

"I wouldn't be caught alone here at night with him, if I were you."

Ilana was impressed by the man's protective instinct, even for the woman who was ending his job.

"I'll keep that in mind," she said. "And I am sorry to have to do this, Bram. But it's policy."

"The rules, I know," Bram said. He rolled his eyes at Ilana and as he did, she glanced down at his shirt and saw on it, a foot. She stared at it and noticed it had only four toes. She took a step closer and heard Charlotte asking them to leave so the technicians could clean up and try to recover what was left of the stone.

"Hey," Bram said, and as he touched her arm, Ilana felt a wave of memories going through her. Living on the island where these things had come, traveling in time, her father being a protector and... the statue where the tapestry was hung. "You okay?" he asked. She looked up at him and realized, she knew this man, she loved him! Reaching up her arms around his neck she hugged him and he said, "Whoa... ma'am what's this about?"

Ilana kissed him and behind her she heard Charlotte say, "Oh brother, can you two carry on outside? people are going to want to visit this gallery tonight and I need to get it cleaned by then."

When Ilana pulled away, she expected to see Bram remember her, and to be enlightened that where they were wasn't what it seemed. But, just like when they had met at college in 1970, he was clueless. If he was the same man she knew, he would go along with her, even if he didn't believe her. So she invited him to dinner and just like in life, she explained everything and he didn't seem to care how crazy it sounded. He was just happy to be with her.

"I missed you so much," she said as they pulled up to her parent's sea side home.

They had created a magnificent place to reside in this reality, and looking at it now, Ilana saw it differently than she had in her false memories of growing up. Everything about it reminded her of the island. It's pyramid shape and the way it looked out over the water was a combination of the temple, the statue and the lighthouse. It was made of stone and glass with an airy, floating feel, the inside was decorated with what she knew now was artwork from and of the island and the people her father had brought to it.

"Mom!" she said, rushing in without even knocking. Bram followed her as she ran up the staircase and into the open kitchen and living area. There they were, sitting together in the recessed entertainment area, designed so much like the temple spring that Ilana felt an other wave of memory floating over her. The dark water, the smoke, the death. She instinctively knew they had to hurry.

"I think I can find Dad, I think I'm _supposed_ to!"

Her mom looked apologetically at Richard and Isabella before she stood to look up at Ilana. It was one of those looks her false memories told her meant they had been talking about her. In reality, she didn't know this woman except for a brief afternoon. Ilana felt loss for the memories of her childhood that weren't real, but also felt the love for her mother, and a gratefulness to be sharing this time with her now.

"Ilana," her mother said. "I've been trying, for your sake, to keep positive, to hold on to hope. But we might just have to accept that he's not coming back."

"No!" Ilana insisted, cheerfully. Bram was behind her and she gestured to him. "At the museum today, I met this security guard and I know this is going to sound crazy, but when I saw the foot on his shirt, I just knew, we were meant to find dad together."

Her mother walked up the steps and looked at it. Ilana held out hope that it would wake her up too. "It looks familiar," she said.

Bram pulled out the bottom of his shirt to look at it and said, "It's... a sketch I did of one of the first photos that your husband released to the museum, documenting they'd found an ancient civilization." He looked apologetically at Ilana and said, "I told you I was a huge fan."

Ilana sighed, it meant more than that, she knew it. But her mother seemed to think that solved the mystery. "It's a clue," Ilana insisted.

"I think we should talk alone..." her mother said.

Ilana moved around her and down the steps to Richard, "Richard. Tell me, _What lies in the shadow of the statue_?"

He shook his head and then let out a small laugh. "I don't know, is this a riddle?" he asked.

"The answer is in Latin, and you know it," Ilana said. "Think. _What lies in the shadow of the statue_?" She touched his arm and blinked, nodding.

"He doesn't remember that riddle," Isabella said. Ilana took in a breath that someone else might know. Looking at Isabella, a woman her false memories told her had been a family friend for her whole life, she realized, she wasn't supposed to know her. "It's okay," Isabella said. And then in Latin she said, "I've known for a long time. We each have to wait until we're ready. And yes, your father will save us all."

Richard looked at her and said, "You speak Latin?" He looked at Ilana and said, "Was that the answer?"

Realizing Isabella was right, Ilana sadly nodded. "It was..."

Her mother looked truly broken over it all and said, "I don't understand, Ilana. How does this have to do with finding your father?"

"The riddle will lead us to him," she said. "I just need to piece together the puzzle."

And then her eyes fell to the wall by the fireplace where the bottom left corner of the tapestry from the museum was hanging. It was in an airtight glass case and when she went up to it she noticed on the fireplace mantle, a knife on a stand. It too was from the ocean excavation and in her mind came an image of this piece, stuck into the wall with this knife. Looking back at it, she saw the image was of a statue and flashing into her mind she saw an image of Isis on the wall of a chamber. There was a fire inside that had gone out. She remembered the image of Isis was on display in the museum lobby and Ilana laughed and turned around. "He's in the museum!"

None of them believed her, even Isabella looked unsure as she stood next to Richard. She spoke something in Spanish to him and he answered her in a whisper.

"Honey," her mother said. "If he was there, someone would have seen him."

Bram was standing with his hands on his hips and his lips pressed together. When Ilana looked at his shirt again she pointed to it. "He's in the foot... below the foot, in a chamber! There was fire that used to burn all the time, but it went out." She looked around at them and said, "Please... if we look and we don't find him, then fine, I'm crazy and you can lock me up. But what if I'm right?"

"Well, there is an old boiler room in the basement... Nobody's been in there for years except for a few janitors who use it for storage. Lights don't even work."

"That's the shadow!" she said. Ilana went to her mother and said, "I don't care if you believe me. I'm going back... Come on Bram."

"Wait, Ilana," Richard said. "The benefit Isabella and I are going to is at the museum in a couple of hours... I can get more tickets and I have connections, I can try to get us in."

Ilana saw her mother cross her arms and Isabella came up to her and said, "It could be therapeutic for her. If we don't find him, maybe it will be easier for her to let go."

Her mother reluctantly nodded and said, "Can you wait, Ilana?"

Ilana wanted to argue, and defy them all, but she remembered what had happened in her real life; eventually she had gotten her way. "Yes," she said. "I'll go home and change..." She looked at Bram and then Richard and asked, "Can my friend come too?"

"Of course he can," Isabella said and Richard nodded, his hand on his wife's shoulder.

Dropping Bram off at his home she asked him, "Thank you for getting involved even though it sounds like I'm crazy."

"Ilana," he said leaning on the window, "I'd be the crazy one not to follow a girl like you anywhere."

It was the same Bram she remembered and she wondered what would wake him up.


	2. MIB's Home

**Author's Note: This is the sideways/afterlife from the POV of the characters I wrote for in my other two fictions: Lost Love and Wheel of Fortune. Those longer stories will enhance the understanding of this one, but aren't completely necessary to enjoy it.  
**

**Also, after watching The End again, I saw a few things that made me want to change this story. **

**So, if you already read this, the first two chapters are different. **

** Warning, the beginning is a mystery, but the final chapters get SUPER mushy and emotional, just like the show did in The End. :D **

...

Ever since he started working here he'd watch Charlotte in the cafeteria, stuck doing paperwork at the back table while the renovations in her wing of the museum were being finished. It was nearly closing time and as he swept up the food and dirt, slowly working his way over to her, he watched her packing up her files and papers and tried to think of what he could say to her today. Most times she was polite, but distracted and today he hoped by helping her out that incompetent security guard, she would be warmer.

As she took her last bite of a candy bar and crumpled the paper she looked up and caught him watching her. He gave her a wave and she smiled with a cheek puffed from the chocolate. She chewed as she stood and he thought of something.

"So how was your night out with the cop?" he asked.

"How... how did you know about that?" she asked. He continued pushing his broom around the chairs. "I _thought_ you were listening to me and Miles the other day. That's very rude, you know."

His smile faded and he said, "Just making conversation. Glad I could help you out today, by the way."

Moving the chairs out of his way as he worked on the bits of food left by the museum guests, he could feel her still staring at him.

"That was good of you to help," she said. "Thank you."

He didn't feel it was sincere and gave up, only giving her a slight glance as she picked up her things and headed for the door.

Before he swept up the pile he'd made into a dust pan, he bent down to pick up an entire quarter of a sandwich. Brushing it off, he took out a white paper bag from his pocket and put it inside.

"What are you doing?" she asked coming up behind him.

Embarrassed that Charlotte was still there and watching, he stood and stammered. "Uh... I don't get paid until Monday, so..." A woman like her wouldn't understand and he shifted his weight and realized he was stupid to think he had a chance anyway. So he just admitted the truth. "I was just hired here in the City Streets Rescue Work Program. This is my first job in years... I hate to see food wasted, it's... an old habit." He rolled up the bag carefully and stuck it in his pocket, leaning over to sweep up the rest of the scraps and dust with a hand held brush into the pan. He then walked over and dumped it into his janitorial cart trash bin, all the while feeling her eyes on him.

When he turned back to her and lifted his brows, he saw a look of pity that irked him.

"I misjudged you," she said. "I'm sorry. Let me buy you dinner?"

"If you mean a candy bar," he said. "No thanks... There's more nutrition in the left overs I've been collecting than what you eat." She laughed sincerely and encouraged he stepped towards her and added, "Being on the streets for as long as I was, you learn how not to starve. Not all left overs are equal. I never could understand how people who have the money don't spend it on healthy food. Especially people as smart as yourself, Charlotte."

She smirked at him and said, "Then let me buy you something healthy, without dirt in it." Slightly embarrassed, but glad for her attention more than her offer, he agreed and followed her to the counter. When she started to carefully order for him he said, "No... please, let me." To the cashier he said, "I'll have pulled pork on a toasted wheat roll, a side salad and a bottle of the Perrier." She looked at him with surprise and he said, "What?"

"Nothing," Charlotte said. "I like your assertiveness."

Feeling patronized he said, "I see." And then looking around, proud to be standing by her side, he saw at the door the same guy with a beard who'd been peering into the cafeteria windows every day this week. He was with the benefit people, but didn't seem to be one of the workers, because he never was working. "Watch out for that guy," he said. "I think he's stalking you."

Charlotte turned to look and when she did, the man smiled sheepishly and then walked towards the patio entrance. On his way he ran into another customer, spilling his drink. "Oh that's a shame," Charlotte said. The man seemed unnerved and turned to walk back out into the yard where the tents were.

"Nice hat," he commented to her and then to the cashier delivering him his food he said, "Thank you." When Charlotte paid for it, he said, "And thank you. Now that I owe you a dinner, I'd like to take you out some time... It'd be nice to celebrate my first pay check with a beautiful woman." He could see it on her face, she was searching for a polite way to turn him down. "Never mind," he said and backed away from her. "It's no surprise you don't go for my type. But I'll tell you what, Charlotte, there's no way _I'd_ ever kick you out at 3am." He turned and walked away, grabbed his cart and on his way down the hall to the closet he heard her footsteps behind him.

"What do you know about that?" she asked, catching up to him. He stopped and realized he probably shouldn't have let on that he'd followed her and Officer Ford home. "Maybe _you're_ the one who's stalking me?" she said.

"You going to have me fired too?" he asked. "At least what I was doing was real security; making sure you got home safely."

"The question I have is why were you there?" she asked. "Were you following me the entire date?"

Caught again, he was honest. "I don't trust cops, or anyone with authority, for that matter. They think they're owed and nice people like yourself assume just because someone has power that they'll know what to do with it and won't take advantage of you." He could see from her expression that might have been exactly what happened. "He hurt you, didn't he? I would never do that."

Her mouth twitched and she looked down. "Even if your concern was warranted, it was inappropriate for you to follow me."

"Where I come from on the streets, we look out for people we care about. I guess I'll have to break that habit too if I want to be respectable."

Charlotte crossed her arms and took in a breath. Then she lifted her brows and said, "I'm going to let this go. But in the future, if you have a concern for my safety, just tell me upfront instead of spying?"

With a half smile he nodded. As she walked away he felt something strange as if his crush on Charlotte had potential. It was ridiculous. He was leaving tonight and couldn't come back. It was nice to know that someone like her could at least be nice to someone like him, though.

After he put his cart away and was sure nobody was looking, he took his dinner and went down the back stairs to the basement and through the hall to the darkest area of the museum. When he unlocked the door and opened it, he heard something mumbled from behind the boxes in the corner. He closed the door behind him and walked around to the back. It was the first time his captive had spoken in weeks.

"What did you say?" he asked gently. "I couldn't hear you."

"They're coming," said the weak voice. He shown the flashlight right in his face and he added, "Game over. I win."

Just the defiance of it infuriated him and with anger he lifted his foot up and kicked Jacob in the gut. When he bent over from the pain, a strange memory, like a dream came to him; he'd done that before. He certainly would have liked to have, but until he took this job, he hadn't seen his brother since they were kids. After he run away he'd gotten in serious trouble and without anywhere else to turn he snuck into Jacob's room, trying to get him to help. Jacob instead called out for their parents and he had to run off on his own again.

Since that betrayal, he'd been waiting for this day. Jacob looked up at him, not even angry. Even starving and beaten, he still wore that sickening, peaceful expression of self-satisfaction.

"I understand why you're angry," he said. "But this isn't going to end the way you think."

"You have no idea what I've been through," he snapped. "And you can keep your fairy tale ending alive as long as you want, Jacob, but in case you haven't looked around much lately, you've lost. You've lost every thing. Your freedom, your money, your family... and once I've traded the painting you copied for me with the original, I'll be long gone... and you'll be dead." When Jacob smiled at him so confidently a fear arose in him that it might be possible. Ilana certainly had been acting strange and if someone found Jacob alive, they could come after him.

It would have been justice to just let Jacob rot here, starve like he had so many nights in his life, cold and alone.

"Well, just in case you're right, I suppose I should tie up my loose ends."

He went back to the old furnace and opened the squeaking door. "It's funny," he said to Jacob as he put together what to do. "The way things turned out. I spent our whole childhood jealous of you." He began scrounging around in the tool box he'd brought down, and the painting supplies he'd provided for Jacob over the last year. "Watching our parents favor you and your beloved art talent while my science fair entries went completely ignored." He found what he needed and began to rig it up. "And here at the end, your talent was able to create the amazing copy of a master piece that's going to fund my retirement. While my ingenuity that they never nurtured is going to help me..." He sighed and said with a smile, "Kill you."

"You can't kill me," Jacob said from behind the boxes. "We're brothers."

"No, because brother's don't betray each other. But you stuck it to me when we were kids, and when our parents died, you never came looking for me. So while you've been living the high life with your inheritance, your precious hobbies, pretentious family and elitist friends, I've had nothing... not even a home."

"It was your choice to leave," Jacob said. "You have an inheritance too. And you know what you have to do to tap into it... you're just not willing."

"I'm not going to jail for something I did thirty years ago!"

"You were a runaway and you killed a woman who tried to kidnap you. If you turn yourself in, the courts will probably forgive you... And if you stop this right now, and let me go, I won't press charges. We can destroy the painting and make up a story about where I've been... You can become part of our family..."

"No!" he shouted and went around the boxes to face him. "_Probably_ isn't enough! I spent thirty years of my life on the street, begging and scrounging for whatever I could find left over after snobs like yourself felt too good for it. This is the first shot I've got at the life I'm owed!" In his hand he held a lighter and clicked it nervously. Even though he hated Jacob, to do what he was about to do wasn't going to be easy.

"Where will you go, brother?" Jacob said. "If what you want is a home, where else can you go than with the people who love you?"

"Spare me. Where I'm going, I won't have to deal with any of you. And with the money I'm going to make, I could even retire to my own deserted island if I wanted!"

Jacob chuckled at that and feeling mocked he came at him. "What, you think that's funny? Maybe I should kill you right now instead of rigging the door to blow up when it's opened."

"I told you, you can't kill me," Jacob said. He was laying on his side, slightly propped up on the pipes with his arm up resting up where his hand was cuffed to them. Gesturing with it he said, "Anything you do to me is going to happen to you. Those are the rules."

"Don't tell me what I can't do!" he retorted. Again a memory came to him, of his brother as a child, smiling down at him. When he had ran away that second time, Jacob hadn't been smiling, he'd been crying. He didn't want him to go. But when Jacob told their parents everything, he could never go back. "Killing you now would be too easy for you. I want you to suffer, like I've suffered." He went back around and trying to control his trembling he set up the system slightly differently.

When he was done, he felt better. He took his dinner and walked back around. He tossed the white bag to Jacob and said, "I got you something."

Sitting down with his meal, he watched as Jacob unwrapped the scraps and sniffed it. The scent of the pulled pork filled the concrete room and again he had another memory come to him, as if he'd eaten roasted pig hundreds of times. He ignored it.

"So, in about two hours, this room is going to start filling up with smoke," he said while he chewed. "By the time it gets back here the fire will have already started using up all the oxygen and you'll already be finding it hard to breath." He took another bite and chewed. Finally Jacob's expression showed slight concern. "Suffocation is a different kind of pain than burning alive. It just takes longer... but with any luck, you'll get to experience both."

Jacob looked up at him and said, "If that's what it takes to win."

It made no sense and thinking that Jacob was trying to mess with him, he lost his appetite. He opened the water, took a drink and then threw it at the wall so that it smashed, spraying Jacob with the water and pieces of the glass. He then got up, tossed his sandwich and the salad on the ground, out of Jacob's reach, and walked back around the boxes. He grabbed the painting and walked out, intentionally leaving it unlocked. Taking out some of the people his brother loved seemed like a good additional pay back for being robbed of those relationships his entire life.

Sitting in the stairwell, waiting, he held the painting copy. It was wrapped up in brown paper with a note on it he didn't remember writing. "It is Finished."

...

Getting into the renovation wing of the museum was a snap with his ring of keys and because of the construction the alarms in this area had been turned off for the day. He had no trouble removing the painting from the wall and replacing it with the one Jacob had painted. Looking at it hanging there, he had a feeling, a longing that he couldn't put his finger on. His brother didn't have to make it that good, but it was perfect, exactly like the original, even though he'd been working with a small photograph in dim light. And under duress.

If things had been different, it wouldn't have to be this way. If that woman hadn't tried to take him as a child, he wouldn't have killed her; he was on his way home that night anyway. But Jacob was already the favorite and his parents already thought he was the bad seed and he couldn't take confirming it.

His eyes frustratingly began to blur as he stared at the painting. There was something about the religious implications and mythology that stirred him. But he didn't have time for sentimentality. He pulled himself away from it, wrapping up the original in the brown paper and slipping out of the plastic that hung over the entrance to this room as a protection from the work being done.

In the hall, he heard voices coming his way. He pulled out the gun he'd been given and then recognized one of them and felt ill. It was Charlotte! Slipping back behind the plastic, he stood flat against the wall, hoping she and whoever it was with her would walk to her office and out before he had to make his delivery outside.

"It's nice of you to come up here with me, Daniel," she said. "I don't know why that silent alarm went off, someone would have to be crazy to try to do anything with this many people in the museum."

"Or it could be they're hoping for distraction," he said. It was that musician, he could see by the shape of the hat he wore when they walked by. He was right, though, that's exactly why they picked tonight.

For the longest time he waited for them to be done, listening to them laugh and discuss a woman who had given birth behind stage, what it was like for him to play with his favorite band, art and physics... She wasn't at all put off by his compliments and at the same time that it was heart breaking to hear, he also felt it was somehow right. A woman like her deserved more than he could give her and this musician sounded very genuine and not putting on the charm like so many other men would do.

With his watch downstairs as part of the trigger, he had no idea what time it actually was and finally had to decide to just take a risk and go or else the fire department would be here when the explosion went off at midnight and then he'd never get out.

Just as he was making it to the end of the hall, he heard Charlotte, "Hey! Where are you going with that?"

She gave chase and he ran the long way to the stairs, through the gallery where Jacob's relics were. He hid behind the wall but when Daniel passed he looked in and the empty spot where Ilana had pushed the brick through gave him away. He put the gun through the hole and was going to shoot, but the musician ducked out of the way too soon and it wasn't worth the noise. Running for the other exit out of the gallery he carefully held the wrapped painting in one hand and waved the gun behind him with the other, looking both ahead and back until he came to the hall where the stairs down to the loading dock were.

"Stop!" Charlotte said, standing in front of him, blocking his way. She was shocked to see it was him and then angry, and then she saw the gun and put her hands up. "What did you take?" she asked. He couldn't believe she was more worried about the art than her life. He started to try to pass her and from the side where she had come, Daniel came around the corner.

"No..." he whined. "Please... don't shoot her..."

"It's alright," Charlotte said. "He's not going to shoot me, are you? You're not that kind of person." When he had almost passed, she jumped in his way and he realized, she was right, he couldn't shoot her. Instead he raised his hand with the gun, and she, stupidly grabbed the painting. Pulling it back and forth between them, with an elbow to her face he gave her a good blow and yanked away the painting. They both fell backwards away from each other with the painting landing between them.

Daniel ran up, and bent down over her. She started to cough and when the blood came out her nose, it all came back to him. The island, wanting to run away, the light, the wheel, killing the crazy woman who had stolen him and... his brother. Jacob had killed him; trowing him into the cave.

When the memories went away and he saw Daniel and Charlotte again and realized what he'd done to her, he knew that even in this pathetic afterlife he was a nothing, a nobody, he didn't even have a name here and everyone hated him.

Charlotte looked up at Daniel above her and he saw it come to their faces, they were remembering. Daniel cradled her face and said, "Do you remember me now? Do you see it all?"

"I think so... I know you, don't I?" she asked. "But how?" She looked over at him still laying there with the painting and the gun and she said, "Daniel, watch out!"

Jumping up to his feet, he said, "I'm sorry, Charlotte. I never meant to hurt you." He ran away, tossing the gun aside and desperate to make it downstairs and out he took two steps at a time. He wasn't sure why he kept the painting for the exchange, it didn't matter now. What was money when you were already dead? What could you buy that would be worth anything in hell?

When he got outside, there she was, waiting for him.

"Well it's about time, I thought I may have hired the wrong person," she said. "Bring it here, to the van, put it in and you can drive me to the church. Your money is in the glove compartment you can take it and the van when we get there."

"No," he said, tossing the painting at her. "I'm not going anywhere with you, Eloise! I know what this place is, and I'm betting you do too."

"So you woke up and now you think you know everything." She picked it up and put it in the van herself. "I should think you of all people would want this life to continue."

"Why would I? I have nothing here, no home... it's worse than being trapped on the island."

"After all this time you had to die and come here before you realized that the island was your home?" She slammed the back door shut and passing by him she said, "If you think purgatory is bad, just you wait until you get to hell."

"This isn't... why?" he asked. "For killing my mother? She was crazy, she killed everyone I cared about..."

"Oh no, not for killing her. For killing Jacob," she said and climbed in the driver's seat.

"I didn't kill him, he killed me!" he said. "It's the last thing I remember!"

And then he remembered the smoke bomb and timer he had set up downstairs. Maybe she meant that and what he did here mattered?

"If that's all you remember, then you haven't woken up completely," Eloise said. "There's much more to it than that." She slammed the door and as she drove away, he wondered what she could mean.

He thought of the smoke that would soon be filling the boiler room and realized, he and his brother might have had the false memories of their past in this reality, but their life here had begun with Jacob as his prisoner. His own punishment for what he had done. He thought of the torture and pain he wanted to inflict on his brother and how Jacob had said, "If that's what it takes."

Suddenly, it didn't matter to him that Jacob had killed him in their real life, he couldn't bring himself to make him suffer anymore in this one.

As he turned to go back into the museum, Daniel and Charlotte ran out the door, Charlotte with his own gun drawn on him. And coming towards them was an other group of people that it broke his heart to see. Would any of them let him go and fix what he'd done?

If Jacob was killed here, his brother might forgive him, but they wouldn't.


	3. Jacob's Messages

**Author's Note: If you read the first two chapters before Nov 16, I've rewritten them because of something I saw when watching The End - and you will want to reread.  
**

**...  
**

As they approached the building with two of Bram's coworkers who had agreed to show them through the basement, Layna saw a man she recognized talking to someone in a van. It was the first time she had any hope, or fear, that Jacob might actually be here.

"That's Jacob's brother," she whispered to Richard.

"The long lost brother?" Richard asked. "Are you sure?"

"He came around right after Jacob went missing, asking for money. When I told him I had to follow the trust fund rules, I never heard from him again."

Before they got there, the van sped off and two people came out of the building, one, Daniel Widmore, the man who had performed tonight, and a woman who was holding a gun. She was pointing it at the Jacob's brother. Richard put Isabella and Layna behind him and kept them at a distance behind a car. Bram took out a weapon as well with Ilana moving behind him.

Jacob's brother raised his hands, tense, like he would run at any minute.

"Where's the painting?" the woman shouted.

"Where's Jacob!" Layna called out, going around Richard and the car.

He looked at one of them and then the other and said, "Eloise Hawkings... I mean Widmore took the painting in that van." His eyes shifted to Layna and she saw something different in them than she had when he had pounded on her door four years ago.

"Why would my mother do that?" Daniel said.

"There's a set of numbers on the back of the original," he said. "It's a code for some computer program. She paid me to exchange a copy of it. I was just confronting her about Jacob. I think he painted it. She probably knows where he is."

Richard took off running and shouted to Isabella, "I'll follow her in the Ferrari! Get the police and call me on my cell!"

"I have to stop my mother, Charlotte," Daniel said, running after Richard.

"He's lying!" Ilana insisted. "Jacob is in the museum."

"Why don't Ilana and Bram search the museum," Isabella said to Layna, "And we'll follow Richard with the police. We'll cover everything that way."

Ilana nodded and she and Bram ran into the building with the other security guards.

Charlotte kept her gun pointed at Jacob's brother until two police cars pulled up.

"Who's coming with me?" a woman in one of the cars said. "You the woman who's got Alpert on the phone?"

Isabella nodded and Layna got in the back seat while Isabella put Richard on speaker as she climbed in the front.

...

They pulled up to the church just as Eloise was opening up the back and Richard was getting out of his car. The police officer strangely did nothing but lean against her car and watch and Daniel got out and seemed to lag behind, as if waiting.

"Where is he?" Richard demanded, going up to Eloise. Layna walked up as well, but Isabella lingered behind with the police officer.

"Oh give it a rest, Richard, you don't care for Jacob anymore than I do, after he used us all those years," Eloise said.

"What are you talking about, he's my friend..."

Eloise rolled her eyes and looked at Layna and said, "You're here too?" Layna had heard of Eloise Widmore, the wife of a man Jacob had business ties with, but she'd never met her.

The elderly woman lifted the painting and as if only annoyed by them, she headed for the side church entrance. Standing there on the steps was a blond woman and a Layna's brother. Eloise stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of him.

"Hello, Ellie," Thomas said.

"You..." she set the painting down and said, "You've come to stop me? My own father doesn't think I'm owed a little more time?"

Layna thought she hadn't heard right and moved closer with Richard who was just as confused.

"It won't work," the blond woman said, coming down the steps.

"Who are these people?" Richard asked.

"Allow me," Daniel said.

When Eloise turned to go to another entrance she saw her son and startled. She smiled and said sweetly, "Daniel, what are you doing here?"

"I know, mother," he said. "I know everything." Her expression tightened even more and she quivered, looking to be ready to deny it.

"Where is my husband," Layna said. "Is that what you're all talking about? Do you know where Jacob is?"

Eloise ignored her and said to Daniel, "I'm only trying to make it last... the numbers on the back of this painting... if I just enter them into the computer..." She was beginning to break down and Daniel took the painting from her.

"You don't need to do that," he said. "What you wanted, you already have... I'm here, and I love you, mother."

She reached for the painting with a sob and he pulled it away and handed it to Richard. "I just want it to last," she said.

"It will," Daniel said, "Forever... we'll be together forever..."

"But what about the numbers?" she asked.

Thomas tried to comfort her by saying, "The numbers were just Jacob's way of giving you something to do until you were ready. But they wouldn't work. This place isn't like that... it doesn't have the same rules of physics."

Layna was moved by their tears, despite the insanity of it. She gestured to the painting Richard was holding and demanded, "Than that is Jacob's? He painted it. Do you know where he is? Is he even alive?"

"Open it," the blond woman said, walking towards her and Richard. "It's time for you and Richard to see." Her brother had his arm around Eloise seemingly unconcerned at all about Jacob.

"It Is Finished," Richard read on the paper. "Is this... a crucifixion painting?" he asked.

Isabella came up beside Richard and said, "Just open it."

He picked it up and put it on a bench that was there and Isabella held it steady as Richard took out a knife and carefully ran it along the top of the paper. Once it was cut, he peeled down the paper and the blond woman removed the rapping so that Layna and Richard could see it.

At first she didn't understand, but then, it started to all came back to her. It was the cave of Light that Jacob was protecting... on the island. She looked up and knew, this was Karen, her mentor and she couldn't believe she was here. Her memories of a perfect life, a beautiful courtship, a wedding, raising Ilana... they were all wrong; she'd had another one, a difficult, painful and yet amazingly beautiful one.

Beside her Richard said, "Why did Jacob paint this?"

"Tell me what you see, my love," Isabella asked.

"The... the empty tomb of Christ." Richard blinked looking at her. "What does it mean?"

"It means," Isabella said, "He's alive... and you're forgiven." Isabella set the painting down and leaned it on the ground next to the bench and then took off her necklace. "You lived your life working for your salvation, Richard, as if your Savior was dead." She handed him the silver cross and as she folded his hand around it she said, "You were never going to hell, my love. The Light knew your heart, more than any priest could. And He loves you, as Jacob loves you." Richard took in a breath, staring at his hand and Layna guessed his memories were flooding his thoughts just as hers had. He then nodded, with tears and a smile on his face. His wife as she kissed his cheek.

"I get it," he said and let out a light chuckle. "I finally get it."

Layna pressed her fingers on her lips, happy for him, and glad to know where they were. This was the reflection of the island that she had seen in the spiritual world. A place created for them to find each other before they moved on. But as she looked back into the painting of the cave of Light, despite her understanding now of all the metaphors and meanings it held, she fell to her knees, grieved still because, Jacob wasn't here.

When she bowed her head and closed her eyes, crying, she couldn't bear to be comforted by any of them. He'd promised, they would be together in the end; that he would be waiting for her. But just like so many years of their lives, they were apart, alone and she didn't want any of the rest of her family and friends, she wanted _him_.

When finally she stopped feeling the hands of the others on her and their compassionate voices in her ears, she let her sobbing subside and looked up. The painting wasn't a painting anymore, it was the real cave of light and she was on the island.

Looking around, she didn't see anyone, she was truly alone and there beside her was the Roman knife.


	4. Smoke Memories

Charlotte was relieved when she saw Miles get out of the police car after the other one drove away.

"I take it this is the guy who stole the painting?" Miles asked, pulling out his cuffs.

"That's him," she said. "He's a janitor here. He hit me in the face too... He says Eloise Widmore paid him to do it."

"Yeah, the biggest patron of the Museum, makes sense to me," Miles said, reaching up for the guys hands. He brought one down and put a cuff on it. "You can put the gun away, Charlotte, I got it."

"You sure?" she asked. He nodded and when he started to reach up for the janitor's other hand, he elbowed him in the chin and lunged, grabbing Charlotte. He pulled her against him, wrangling the gun away from her and holding it up under her chin.

"Way to go Miles!" Charlotte snapped and then she felt a squeeze and she took the clue to be quiet.

"Put it down!" Miles said as the janitor backed them towards the museum.

"I'm sorry," he said. "But there's a bomb inside that I gotta make sure my niece doesn't find."

"What bomb?" Charlotte asked. "How do you know?"

"Charlotte, I got this," Miles said, gesturing with his hands up to calm him down. "How do you know about the bomb?"

"How do you think? I set it up as a precaution, to hide my tracks," he said, backing up faster towards the stairs. "I don't want her to get hurt... just let me go in and stop her."

"Alright," Miles said following. "Let's say you did, you going to let me help you? Or you going to get yourself in deeper trouble."

Pushing Charlotte at him, she fell into Miles and turned to see the janitor jump over the stair banister and disappear below. She started to run after him and Miles grabbed her. "What are you doing?" he asked and ran in. "I got this."

Furious, Charlotte followed him in as he called for back up on his radio. Once off it, she said, "You keep saying that, but I know this museum better than you do."

"Fine, just stay out of my way," he said. "I'm a professional."

Something in her gut told her that Miles didn't know anymore what he was doing than she did, but she didn't know where it came from, so she just followed.

When they got to the bottom of the stairs, there was a gun shot and they ran through the corridors to the dark hallway toward the sound. Miles took out a flashlight and they saw other signs of flashing lights as well. Again, Charlotte felt it was familiar, and terrifying and she heard a click and his voice.

"You can't stop me now," he said. "You can only save yourself by leaving."

When they got there, the janitor was standing holding his side with blood running over his fingers. At his feet was his gun and his other hand was cuffed to the doorknob. The other security guards and Bram were standing away from the door, each with their guns drawn on him. And there light coughing came from the other side of the door.

"Dad?" Ilana shouted, eying the janitor. "Is that you?"

Through a slit beneath the door, thick, black smoke began pouring out. It crept out quickly and started to rise around the janitor.

"Uh-oh," Bram said. "Ilana..." Charlotte watched him blinking as he backed up and said, "I think I'm beginning to remember something... and it ain't good!"

"All of you," the janitor said, "Get out of here, now."

The coughing became heavier and Ilana was frantic. "What are you going to do to him?"

"The door's rigged, isn't it?" Miles asked.

The janitor licked his lips and nodded. The smoke began to fill the corridor and Charlotte felt her own urge to cough.

Ilana turned to Charlotte and asked, "Is there another way in to this room?"

"No," Charlotte said, covering her mouth with the back of her hand.

The janitor started to cough from the smoke as well and he yelled, "Jacob!" The coughing from inside was heavy and nonstop now and he yelled again, loudly. "I'm coming in... the boxes might protect you from the blast, but get under the table!" Looking at Ilana he said, "Please... just go... let me do _one_ thing right."

She nodded and moved back with Bram down one hallway and Charlotte went with Miles down the other. Before she went around the corner, she looked at him. She could barely see his face through all the black smoke.

"Tell Richard," he said. "I wished I'd been a better father. He is who he is because of you and Jacob." As she went to hide around the wall and leaned against it, Charlotte worked out what he meant and she began to recall; living in the ancient times on the island, digging for the wheel, leaving for the Canaries, giving birth and raising her son. "Here I go... brace yourselves!" he shouted through coughs.

When Miles put his arm around her and pulled her head down, there was a bright light flash and a loud explosive noise. In the silence that filled her ears after that, Charlotte recalled flashing through time, seeing Richard on the island and Daniel confessing his love to her in front of him. She remembered telling Richard that story when he was a child, and though she had died before his twelfth birthday, he had turned out to be good and nothing like his father. Except that... his father hadn't always been evil. And she realized, she had cared for him.

"Hadrian?" she whispered. Miles pulled her down below the smoke and Charlotte coughed and could hear the others down the hall coughing.

"Daddy?" Ilana cried moving in through the smoke with a cloth over her mouth. There was fire in the boiler room and Bram had an extinguisher he was spraying.

He moved inside the room and Charlotte through her coughs said, "Fans... there are vents..."

Miles followed them and as Bram was spraying everything down Miles hit a switch on the wall that began to suck the smoke out. With her flashlight Ilana walked around the smoldering boxes but Charlotte stopped at the door. Hanging there, on the knob were the cuffs, but there was no trace of Hadrian.

"He's not here," Ilana said, distraught. "The blast didn't take him, there's no fire back there. I don't understand. He _was_ here!"

Charlotte backed out of the room and unable to speak, so overwhelmed by the memories, she ran up the stairs and outside. When she was in the night air she felt something soft beneath her feet, not the pavement of the loading dock. She looked around, amazed; she wasn't at the museum anymore, she was on the beach. She looked behind her and there was the statue, not like it had been when she was living with Hadrian on the island, but broken and only a foot. Out of the base of it, the others came, just as shocked as she was.

But they all knew, now. Even Miles had somehow awaken. He was looking at Charlotte and approaching her when his eyes went over her shoulder. "Hey!" he said, waving. Charlotte turned and when she saw it was Daniel, she broke down and started running for him.

She jumped into his arms and he held her tightly, even picking her up a bit. There were no words to be spoken, they both knew, they had made it, they had found each other again. And it was over.

Ilana, however, was not anywhere near elated. Obviously brokenhearted, she was followed by Bram and the other two security guards. When they got to them, Richard walked out of the jungle. Charlotte reached out her hand to him and he took it and kissed her cheek.

"So," Ilana said, stiffly to him. "Do you know what we're supposed to do _this_ time, Ricardus?"

He smiled and said, "Actually I do. It's going to seem a bit strange, though." He looked around at them all and said, "Do you trust me?"

"What choice do we have?" Ilana asked. "Just tell me, will Jacob be there?"

Somberly Richard said, "I don't know. But he wants us to do this, and I think we should."


	5. Found

After the blast, there was only darkness. Jacob could still feel himself chained, but no more was it to a set of pipes in a boiler room, rather, it was more surreal, and the tether was stronger, like an umbilical chord from him to someone else in the darkness.

"You there?" he asked, more with his thoughts in a whisper than any spoken sound.

"Yeah, but why are you?" came the reply. "You don't deserve this place. You're the good one, remember?"

"There's no being alone with us," Jacob said. "We were conceived together, born together, lived together and even died, relatively, together. So, here we are."

After a long pause came the response, "Here we are."

Jacob waited to see if there would be anything else from his brother. When not, he said, "Thanks for trying. If we didn't have this connection, it would have worked. You would have saved me and you would have been sent here by yourself... But then I wouldn't have been able to help you."

"You still want to help me, Jacob, after everything?"

"Yes," Jacob said. "I'm still trying to prove you wrong."

"Maybe I don't want your help. Maybe I'd rather be her and right then anywhere else and wrong. Did you ever think of that?"

Jacob hoped his amusement at this bickering wasn't felt by his brother. "If you let go, it's over," he said. "I'll hold on to you and bring you with me."

"Let go of what?" he asked.

Jacob hummed and then said, "The pain, mostly. I think. It's what's keeping you here. It's what extinguishes the light within you. You need to forgive yourself, and accept the forgiveness. Being good isn't about being perfect. It isn't about keeping that light inside of you burning all by yourself. It's about turning from the darkness, back to the Light. Admitting you can't do it on your own and letting it fill you again."

His brother's silence was full of anger, Jacob could feel it. He let his brother seethe and said nothing else for a very long time, until he thought of the one thing that might turn his brother; the one tiny bit of brightness he still held on to voluntarily.

"Richard finally accepted forgiveness," he said.

"What did he need forgiveness for, Jacob? He was a good man, better and brighter than you!" His defensive tone gave Jacob confirmation that this was the path. "His worst sin was a mistake, an accident and everything else he did was in ignorance because you never told him anything! But aside for when I lied to him, every intention he ever had was to do what was right. If it wasn't for my stubbornness in conceding, Richard would have won you the game. "

"And yet he still knew he needed forgiveness," Jacob said. "And that is why he was so good, my friend. Because of his humility."

Jacob felt his brother's conviction. There were no whispered thoughts exchanged, but his brothers admiration for that trait he admired most in his son emanated from him with the full acknowledged that he lacked it.

"Am I the only one here," his brother asked. "Was everyone else just able to... let go, that easily?"

"No," Jacob said. "There are others who refused and they're in their own void away from the Light. They too think they're happier to hold on to the pain... but they don't have a brother to argue with them. You're fortunate in that regard."

"Yeah, because you're such great company, Jacob."

He knew his chuckle at that was felt, but his brother didn't respond. After a long while, longer that Jacob could measure in this place, his brother spoke again.

"I didn't care about anything in the end. My heart was already here, in this void. I had to send it here so I could do what I needed to to leave."

"Can you see now why I couldn't let you leave the island?" Jacob asked. "Does that help you at all to forgive me?"

"What helps is knowing you're stuck here with me. Seems fitting."

"We're not stuck," Jacob said. "You could set us both free whenever you're ready. "

Silence again.

"If I let go, can you just leave me here?" he asked.

"I won't," Jacob said.

"Why not?" he asked. "Why not just go?"

"Because I love you," Jacob said.

He could sense the emotions in his brother, trying to reject it. He wasn't angry or hurt when he responded, rather just thoughtful.

"When I awoke in that... place between life and and here," he said. "I only remembered being alive, on the island. Even when I was trying to save you from the explosion, I only remembered that you that had killed me... despite what Eloise said." He paused and Jacob wondered what life would have been like if that's all that had happened. "But when I saw the smoke, and I heard you coughing... I remembered everything else I'd done all at once. To all those people, to Richard... your candidates. Somehow, you being the bad guy was so much easier to live with, Jacob... It was so much easier to forgive _you_ than it is myself."

"Hmmm," Jacob said. "I think I know what that means."

"What?" he snapped.

"You love me too," Jacob said. When he got no argument he asked, "Are you ready? There's a few more things I have to do before we're done."

"Like what?" he asked.

"For one, I don't think we've had enough parties in our lives."

Before his brother answered, the two of them were no longer in the pitch black, but were standing in a dark room, full of other people. Jacob could tell who was there without even seeing their faces and when he reached out and put his hand on Richard's shoulder, his friend turned to him and laughed. He embraced him and said, "You made it! It wouldn't have been the same without you, Jacob."

"I wouldn't have missed it," Jacob said. "But this isn't about me... this about _him_."

Someone from near the front door of the barrack shushed them and it opened.

"Dad, seriously, you can't stay here forever. And besides..."

The lights suddenly went on, and there stood Ben, mouth opened, eyes wide as ever as everyone shouted, "Surprise!"

He blinked and looked around at the people there and Danielle Rousseau gave him a kiss on the cheek and said, "Happy Birthday, Ben." She then led him in by the hand and he was greeted by Horace and Amy and even his father. Jacob kept hidden in the kitchen and noticed behind him was the cake. It was a white, heart-shaped angel food and Harper was standing across the table smiling warmly at it. "It's perfect," she said.

Jacob nodded and when he picked it up with one hand he glanced at his brother who stood with crossed arms and rolled his eyes, but not without a small smile.

"Sing!" Alex told everyone. "So we can cut the cake!"

Everyone started to sing 'Happy Birthday' and when Ben got to Richard, the exchange of affection was warm and brotherly. When they were finished, Ben said, "You didn't have to do this, Albert. I was coming around."

"I didn't," he said. "I organized it, but... it was someone else's idea."

When Ben glanced up and saw Jacob his smile froze. "Will you do the honors, Ben?" Jacob asked and handed him a knife. Ben stood there and froze, staring at it. He then looked at the cake and then up at Jacob's chest. Blinking back the tears, Jacob knew, this was the moment, they needed to take back between them. When Jacob's brother came and took the cake from him, Jacob removed the knife from Ben's trembling hands and placed it on the table.

He put his hands on Ben's shoulders and Ben closed his eyes. "I want you to remember," Jacob said, giving him back the memories of when he was healed as a boy. "Do you see?"

Ben nodded and said, "All that time... everything you did in my life... it was for me... And I never saw it." Jacob pulled Ben to him and held him.

"I'm sorry," Jacob said. "I'm so sorry I couldn't tell you." He felt Ben's arms go around him and unlike he'd ever seen in Ben's life, Ben returned the affection, squeezing Jacob back in an embrace he had needed for what must have felt like forever. "Thank you, Ben. For everything. Especially..."

Jacob held him away from him and looked down at him. "Thank you for not moving with the candidates. They wanted you to, they loved you too...especially Hugo... I can't tell you how much it means to me that you waited for me."

Ben nodded, fresh tears sparkling in his eyes. There was a murmur after a few moments and then Jacob's brother said, "So, do we get to eat cake or not?"

Jacob let go a laugh and Ben seemed grateful for the relief of tension.

But then Richard turned and said to Jacob's brother, "You really think _you_ deserve a piece of cake?"

A hush of anticipation fell over the crowd and Jacob watched carefully as his brother set it down.

"No," he said. "I don't."

Richard took the knife, looked at him and then cut a piece out of the heart. He put it on a plate, handed it to him and said, "Have mine then."

His brother nodded and smiled, taking it. The talking started again with Alex jumping in to move the cake to the other room to cut it and Ben went on to help Alex with her work.

His brother seemed uneasy. "So, Jacob finally told you then?" he asked carefully. Richard seemed confused and looked at Jacob.

"I never got around to it," Jacob said to his brother. "Why don't you tell him?" His brother's lips parted and a rare flash of fear came into his blue eyes. "It's okay," Jacob said.

"Tell me what?" Richard asked. Then with a smirk added, "There was quite a bit Jacob didn't get around to telling me."

Looking down, his brother shook his head and looked at the cake. Through the crowd, Charlotte entered the kitchen area with Daniel behind her. She whispered something to him and he nodded with understanding.

"I should tell him, Hadrian," she said.

Richard's eyes shot a look at Jacob's brother in shock. "So you do have a name?"

"It's the name I called him," Charlotte said. "When we were together." Richard's eyes squinted and blinked at her and then his face fell and his mouth opened, as did his eyes.

When he turned those shocked eyes on Jacob's brother, his only word was, "Sorry."

"You..." he said, a lifetime and a half of emotions flooding over him. "How...?"

"Time traveling's a bitch," Jacob said. "Don't you recognize her and Daniel from... what was it, 53?" Richard looked at them and was even more confused. He then turned his eyes back at his father and Jacob clarified, "When Charlotte was time traveling, she died before my brother was transformed. He found her and a way to bring her back. They were together for a time before I took a pregnant Charlotte away before his entire village was killed."

"Your _brother_?" Richard said.

His brother looked indignant as he exclaimed, "You didn't tell him that either?" Jacob cringed. "Jacob!" He shook his head and said, "I would have told you, Richard. I would have told you everything. But I couldn't, not until you came on my side... which you never did."

"You were a good uncle," Charlotte said to him.

"Without realizing it even," his brother added, as if finishing her sentence.

"Did you know who I was when I first came to the island?" Richard asked.

Nodding, Jacob's brother looked a bit ashamed. "I saw Charlotte's face in your memory... I didn't realize Jacob didn't know until much later, though. I thought he was rubbing it in. You did come in on the Black Rock after all."

"Coincidence," Jacob said and his brother shot him an amused glance. They knew there was no such thing.

"That's why you didn't kill me?" Richard asked, still stuck on past events.

His brother shrugged, embarrassed for another reason now. "Maybe..."

"You just wanted me to join you," Richard said softly. "Even when I was mortal again... you didn't kill me."

"He doesn't like to admit it," Charlotte said, "But he's not all bad." Jacob's brother looked up at her with tenderness but his eyes went to Daniel and he looked away, as if in pain. Charlotte looked at Daniel who nodded. "Hadrian," she said. His brother didn't meet her eyes. "I wanted to tell you, and I wanted Richard to know..." She glanced at her son and then stepped forward, until Jacob saw his brother give in and meet her eyes. "I loved you... I do... I still love you." He looked at Daniel with disbelief and she insisted, "I've talked to him, and you were right." She licked her lips and when he looked back at her she said, "He was glad you took care of me. He understands. And where we're going, we can all be together and it won't matter."

A shy smile went on his brother's face and he said, "I knew it."

"No you didn't," she said. He seemed uneasy and then she kissed him. Jacob didn't realize you could blush in this realm, but it was nice to see especially since Daniel was just as amused.

When his brother finally seemed to accept the forgiveness, went their way and Richard crossed his arms and leaned against the counter, looking at his father. "You going to eat that cake, or do I have to take it from you?"

As Charlotte laughed and joined them, Jacob pulled Daniel aside. "How are you... with all this, really?"

With a gentle smile Daniel said, "If it wasn't for Richard... I wouldn't be here. She never would have known." Jacob looked to the side, thinking about the causal loop and Daniel said, "I gave up trying to figure it out a long time ago."

Patting him on the arm, Jacob made his way to the front door and was stopped by Ilana. She was beaming and hugged him tightly. Bram was beside her and Jacob said to them, "You guys turned out to be pretty decent body guards after all."

"Why put us through all of that?" Ilana asked. "Why not just let us... appear in a room like this?"

He lifted his brows and asked, "Where's the fun in that?"

When she laughed, he slipped outside.

The island night air was perfect and Jacob felt more alive than he ever had when he really was. He walked down the porch steps and as soon as his foot touched the grass, he wasn't in the barracks anymore. He was beside a stream leading to a cave from which came the beautiful glowing light. But that wasn't why he was there. Laying beside it on the grass was a woman, still like an angel, waiting for him. Jacob knelt down beside her and watched her for a few moments, taking in for the last time the sight of her sleeping. Her hand was laid over the knife he'd left for her and he wondered if she'd understood what he meant by it.

When he lifted her hand and held it, she looked up and he could see by the glow of the cave that her eyes were red from tears. She reached up to him and climbed into his arms.

"You're late," she cried in his ear.

"I am," he said, holding her and staring into the light. "When we finally met in this place, I wanted it to be forever."

She pulled away and looked at the knife. "You didn't really think I would go without you?"

"If I was wrong about my brother, Richard and Dogen would have led the others. But I needed you to know you had a choice."

"I would have waited forever," she said. As she said it he felt as if they could leave right then, that they were already there. She must have felt it too. "Are we going alone?" she asked.

"No... They're all waiting for us!"

In a flash they were at the temple, in the courtyard and Dogen turned to greet them with Lenon. They nodded to him and Jacob went to the front gates and opened the doors. He stepped back and greeted them all as they made their way into the temple where the light awaited them.

Everyone he had brought to the island from the first ship to the last plane; everyone except the candidates and their strongest connections. He watched his people file through, touching some, embracing others and nodding at most. Ben walked through, beaming, with Danielle by his side and his arm around Alex who was holding Karl's hand. When the crowd began to dwindle and the last of them filed through the temple gates, finally Jacob saw his brother with Richard, Charlotte, Daniel and Daniel's parents. Behind them came Karen Degroot, her husband Gerald, Thomas and Layna's parents. She ran to her mother and they briefly had a moment before they walked through the courtyard leaving Layna with him.

Very last was Ilana and Bram. Taking her hand in his and Layna's in his other, Jacob followed his people into the light where his mother and his brother's people were waiting, even Claudia.

The circle was truly complete now and when the Light enveloped them he once more saw everyone and everything and all of time at once and how it worked together. There would be no more struggling, pain or sorrow. They were no longer lost, they had all found each other. There were no more questions, there was only Love in the Light; the only answer that ever mattered.

THE END!


End file.
